


I Call It "Off The Record"

by thephilosophah



Series: Blackwatch Week 2017 [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch, Blackwatch Era, Drinking, Gen, Out Past Curfew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 09:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11598078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thephilosophah/pseuds/thephilosophah
Summary: McCree offers the rude cyborg some alcohol to ease his attitude.(Blackwatch Week, day 2: Breaking the rules/Teamwork)





	I Call It "Off The Record"

**Author's Note:**

> ft my headcanon about mccree's hand, more abt it on day 6

Jesse digs a pencil in the joint gap between his second knuckle and his middle finger. With a sharp screeching sound, he dislodges a pebble that'd somehow found itself inside his glove, through his joints and into his prosthetic.

He looks up at the broody cyborg that hasn't bothered introducing himself yet, then back down at his metal hand.

He sets the pencil down and picks up an earbud so he can oil around the joint.

"Why don't you just go for maintenance."

Jesse looks up again, finds a pair of creepy red eyes glaring daggers at him. "Pardon?"

"Your hand. You know it needs attention but you don't even have the tools for it. What do you even think you're accomplishing?"

"Aw but I'm done already. There's no need to go take up anyone's time." Jesse slips his glove back on, hiding the metal. It's the kind of prosthetic that you either know about or can't tell at all. "See? All done."

Shimada scoffs, shifts his glare to the wall. "What do you even pay the mechanics for, then."

"I ain't paying nobody, do I look like I handle the payrolls? And this is just too minor to bother them with. You, on the other hand, are what keeps them employed."

Shimada gives a violent flinch at that. He buries himself deeper in his jacket.

"You okay there, Shimada?"

"Genji."

"Uh?"

"Please don't call me Shimada. My name is Genji, my _callname_ is Genji."

Jesse chews on his lip for a moment. "Wanna go for drinks?"

"It's 1am."

"Yes, that's an acceptable drinking time."

Genji rolls his eyes. "The doors lock at night, I can't believe you'd forget that."

"Naw, I ain't forgetting none, Genji! It's not like the doors slam shut no matter what, you can still get out if you got a pass. It ain't a prison."

Genji sits still.

"You wanna go or what?"

"Sure. Yeah, okay, who gives a shit. Might as well. Lead the way, McCree."

And so he does. He picks an unguarded exit and sweet-talks Athena into letting Genji out with him. Genji, for his part, stays silent until they're out of the base.

"So where are we going?" he says while kicking at every rock he stumbles over.

"Well, ain't no bar 'round here, I'm afraid, but there's a store that carries liquor and runs 'round the clock, so there, first. Then any bench y' like, Genji."

Genji hums.

At the store, Jesse picks and pays for a bottle of whiskey that's cheap enough for the occasion but not so cheap he can't keep it down. Genji waits outside, and, when prompted, picks a bench that faces a small cluster of trees.

"What's the pass like?" he asks.

"The what now."

"The pass. To get out. I didn't see you holding any kind of card and you didn't give some password. Is it identity-based?"

Jesse scratches behind his ear and takes a swing of the whiskey. "Well, yeah, no. There's no pass. It's just that some doors never get locked, and Athena has full authority over them - it's really only a matter of convincing her."

Genji unlatches his mask. Jesse politely finds his own shoes very interesting. Oh wow, sneakers. Huh. The cowboy does rest.

Genji drinks. "So this was an illegal outing?"

"I call it off the record."

Genji huffs. "I can't believe Overwatch's AI would ever trust a word you say with that kind of lying face."

Jesse shrugs, takes the bottle when it's offered. "Ay, if I'm selling it, they're buying it." When he goes to take a drink, he chances a look at Genji.

His jaw is metal. That shouldn't be the first thing Jesse notices, but it is. His jaw is metal, and his skin is horribly discolored - grey under the scarce streetlights.

"So you'd smuggle me out of the Watchpoint just to get drunk and stare?"

Jesse laughs. "Naw, love, I'm just sharing drinks with a teammate. What's wrong with that?"

Genji snatches the bottle out of Jesse's hand. "Don't", he scowls, "call me names. I have a name. Use it."

"Welp, my bad", Jesse looks back to the store. From here he can't see the menu sign at the window, but he can read the store's name. "Actually, getting back in's gonna be harder than getting out was."

Genji sighs. "Figures. Why is that?"

"We can't go through the same door or it'll be documented. It'd be fine if it was just me with, like, Angela, or a CO, but you? You might wanna stay off the record."

"I'd appreciate that."

"So here's the plan-"

The plan didn't survive first contact, surprising no one. What did happen was Jesse essentially dancing his way through a guarded entrance while Genji ninja'd his way around the back, up a wall and through a window. Jesse's account of the event had Genji walking on the ceiling. Genji's had Jesse throwing down with the guards. Both swear by their versions of the story, but when put against each other, they ignore all questions regarding the outing, insisting they'd never _think_ of breaking the rules and illegally leaving the base.

Because they're just that obedient, aren't they?

 


End file.
